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This appears to be one of the spare private rooms, hastily reworked into an office space. Instead of the usual bed, clothespress, table and chairs, there's a filing cabinet, a floor lamp, and…a table and chairs. The table holds a smaller desk lamp, a personal computer with connection cables spilling down the back, a dispatch radio, plus a scattering of files, papers, and writing materials. Beside the workspace is a smaller endtable, seated upon which is a klah percolator and half a dozen mugs. None of the three chairs match each other, or the tables, but they seem to be solidly made and in good repair.

Piled up against one wall are half a dozen cartons, apparently also filled with files of some sort. The room is rather sparsely decorated, with only a scrap of faded carpet beneath the table and an embroidered wall hanging hung on the wall opposite the door, in bold copper and russet threads.

Zi'on has been weryleader for a sevenday or so now, and he's just starting to settle in a bit. It's been a transitional period, of course, as A'ven moves his stuff out and Zi'on moves.. whatever he can find in. He'll need to get some different furniture, probably order some nice stuff, but right now functional was key. A computer helped, though since it isn't working it's not much help. Zi'on's got it opened up on the desk, trying to diagnose the issue with it. A'ven was weyrleader for something like twelve turns at Western, so things are a little strange. And that's probably why Zi'on is cleaning house of the old personnel, as well. And that means a new weyrsecond! And so he's send a 'brat off to find Ila.

And find Ila the brat did, which is why the bronzerider is climbing up the steps to the weyrleader's office, and knocking on the door before peeking his head in. There's a smile on those lips as grey eyes spot Zi'on, and a little salute as he steps his way around the door and inside. "Greetings, Weyrleader," the rider says with an air of amusement, "somebody said you were looking for me?" Ila'den moves to a spot more close to Zi, and if there is an open chair, he settles into it without waiting for any kind of formal invitation. Either way, he's giving the computer a look of drawn brows and a slight frown. "Ahh, computers. Never could wrap my brain around how the damn things work…"

Zi'on was glad to know he could rely on at least one brat. Of course he'd promised him something. Something worth the brat's while. Who knows what. A free day off of chores maybe, even though Zi'on would likely not be able to convince the headwoman of such things. Zi'on squints at Ila's salute. "Greetings, Weyrsecond. I am. Uh, sit if you trust the chairs." Oh yes, Zi'on just called Ila weyrsecond. WAY TO SPILL THE BEANS. The bronzer has a voltmeter and is checking the connections across components. "Eh. I'm not sure I can fix this one. I'll probably have to take it back to Landing and get something else. Newer maybe. That works. I'm already behind I feel like." He sighs a bit and sits back in his chair. At least the bronzer's gotten some nice new clothes for his job. Though he's looking scruffier than ever. "So how's things?"

Weyrsecond? Ila'den seems to miss the initial spilling of beans, but probably only because the man isn't expecting it. Instead he looks down at the seat as if he doesn't trust it after all, and then blinks those grey hues after the computer as Zi'on talks over his woes. "Wasn't there a candidate in our class who could have a look after it? Kiley… Or something like that…" He doesn't keep track of who goes where, so even if the lass is gone, he'll be splendidly unaware of that fact. It's here, when Zi'on inquires as to how things are going, that something suddenly clicks. There's sudden suspicion in the bronzerider's every manner, and a hesitancy as he speaks, "Things are… good. You look a little worse for the wear, but then maybe your Fortian girl digs that kind of thing…" Pause. "Did you say /Weyrsecond/?"

Zi'on is sitting in a similar seat, so they can't be that untrustworthy, right? Or maybe Zi'on was just willing to risk it after standing for a while. "Kiley, yeah. I haven't seen Kiley in a while. I think she's at Landing most of the time now. Or off working on her research or something. No time for Zi'on these days." Clearly Zi'on can't keep track either, and Kiley was a friend of his. Zi'on sighs at the computer and pushes it away from himself for the time being, reaching over to unplug it. He grins to Ila and rubs his beard. "I was thinking I'd grow it in full. It makes me look older. But it'll take a bit before it's in nice. I haven't seen my Fortian girl in a while now. She isn't responding to my letters, so either she's busy or scared to write me now. She'll probably make me shave it, if she doesn't just outright tell me it's over." Zi'on reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out the weyrsecond knot, laying it on the table. "Yep. It's yours, if you're interested. I'm cleaning house a bit. You seem like the reliable type. The rest you can learn as you go."

Ila'den seems ill at ease all the while Zi'on talks, as if waiting for the entirety of the weyr to come bursting in through the Weyrleader's doors laughing. As a matter of fact, the bronzerider scans the room, and then rolls his shoulders up into a shrug when an impending surprise party seems absentee. "It /does/ make you look older, but I thought you already had that whole… baby thing going for you. I thought the ladies were into Dads, and the whole… hairless thing." HEY. It's what he's /heard/, okay. He's in the middle of scratching lightly at his own scruff when the knot comes out to play, and Ila'den stares at it for a long, hard second. He reaches out to it, hand hovering over the item, before settling on it lightly. "Is this a joke?" he inquires first, because he initially trusts the offer as much as Zi seems to trust his chairs. Grey eyes move from knot, to Weyrleader, and level him with a look while he awaits his answer.

This would be a terrible spot for a surprise party. Nope. Instead the bronzer has something much much more horrible planned for Ila'den. Zi'on wrinkles his nose. "-Baby- thing? Bleh. I hope not. If I look too young the holders will take me for a joke. Don't matter how many years I been a rider, who my father is or what. I shave my sack and my chest, that ought to be enough for the ladies." TMI! Though Zi'on's always felt he had something to prove. Zi'on peers at Ila, then laughs. "No. But it would have been pretty funny if I'd rigged it to zap you when you picked it up. Course then you might have changed your mind then. I should do that the next time we have to give out knots." Apparently not even being weyrleader can put the bronzer off his pranks.

The TMI? Ila'den takes it in stride, and actually throws back his head to laugh. It's okay, he's in the company of manly men; sharing these things is ACCEPTABLE. "You are a better man than me, Zi'on." And that's all he'll say on the topic, because he doesn't go so far out of his way to assure that /Iris/ is given the same luxuries with /his/ body. As for the zapping, Ila curls his fingers around the knot and then pulls it towards himself to inspect with scrutinty, and then… amazement. "I really don't know what to say, Zi'on. I would be absolutely honored, though I have a feeling the weyr may soon regret having allowed you to put me in office with you." Because the bronzerider is, himself, quite the prankster. Things could get… interesting. Evident when he gives a roguish grin, and clears his throat. "I might've punched you, and got automatically demoted with a cut in marks, but I would have accepted. Perhaps if there's ever need of a new Wingleader, we can rig the knot to do something awful, and plan some kind of other attack." Unprofessional, surely, but /fun/.

Yes, these were MANLY things to talk about. One's balls, for example. Those were manly. Zi'on laughs. "The ladies like it, what can I say? Plus I am naturally kind of a beast." And no lady wants to deal with such. The knot is in fact the weyrsecond knot. No wires or anything dangerous. Zi'on leans back a bit and laces his fingers behind his head, grinning. "Don't get all mushy on me. It's hard work. Shit rolls downhill, as they say. When my da was weyrsecond at Ista he was in charge of interweyr relations and the like. Enka generally deals with the holders so we get the weyrs. Also the wingleaders report up through us. Well, transport is sort of half and half, since the weyrwomen keep track of weyr supplies generally." A long-winded brief explanation of duties, apparently. "We'll split the load somewhat, you'll be my wingman. I can handle the weyr relations, probably. I know a lot of the staff at other weyrs." Zi'on laughs. "Well, don't punch me, because it's not rigged up. Maybe I'll leave a zapper in Enka's chair or something."

Yep, Ila'den /laughs/. The bronzerider gives his head a bit of a shake, and then wiggles the knot just slightly. "Hard not to get all mushy when you're asking me into a relationship." He's teasing, of course, and listens to the basic run of what his shared duties will be with a smile. "I'll be there to cover up any messes you may leave behind." And he says it with solemnity, but is assuredly only kidding. Still, he rises to his feet, and extends a hand across to Zi'on for a shake. "Really, Zi'on, thank you. I hate to run you short, but I promised a certain nanny that I would be picking up my sister at a certain time, and /I/ don't want to suffer that woman's wrath again. /She/ is quite the puncher." Pause, wicked grin, "But let me know if you decide to rig Enka's chair. I'd be in to help you with that, and maybe pulling a prank or two on Iris as well." Knot held tightly in hand, the bronzerider is giving one last salute, and then slinking out of the Weyrleader's office to head away. Talk about /surreal/. Babies, AND weyrsecond? Something is very, very wrong with the world indeed.